Confusion
by JackFrost'sGirl
Summary: Short one shot. What if after Bucky's memories came back he couldn't handle what he'd become? I wrote this for a creative writing piece is Literature, we had to write a shocking story and this is what I came up with. Rated T for violence and language. Art by thunderbirdarcher.


This made no sense. How could he not remember anything? How could someone so noble, so kind, so brave, become someone so evil and controllable. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, flashes of things he'd done invaded his mind; half images of death swirling into moments with Steve from before the war. Stumbling in out of the museum and finding a small ally he lost control for a moment, his metal arm slamming into the wall, cracking the brick it was made of. Quickly reining I his emotion James began to walk to nowhere in particular, just so long as it took him away.

Lights flickered along the empty street, reflecting off of the abandoned cars and desolate houses. Grey clouds travelled quickly across the sky, covering the moon as the heavens opened and rain began to pour onto the ground, drenching James Barnes in moments. His long hair plastered to the back of his neck, baggy jeans becoming heavy as they soaked up the water and rubbed uncomfortably against his legs, his hoodie clung to his body tightly. He slowly walked to one of the houses; not caring if he was wet or got sick; and forced the door open, listening for sounds of others inside but everything was silent save the rain.

Darkness enveloped his form when the door shut, dulling the world. James tilted his head to the side, noticing a stream of light pouring in through the ruined curtains. He dragged the hoodie up over his head and tossed it in the corner along with his sneakers, leaving him in only his jeans and tank top. Almost stumbling he made his way into the next room, looking around as if he forgot how he ended up there; the rest of the house was slowly explored. Outlines of furniture stained into the ugly green wallpaper the seemed to tilt and swirl if they were stared at for too long. The rickety stairs squeaked and bowed under James' weight. There was still furniture upstairs, a dusty, faded queen's sized bed almost filled one of the rooms, several chests filling another.

Finding nothing of interest James decided to wait out the storm in the house and crept back down the stairs into the first room. Light glinted off of his left arm, making him jump. The metal appendage glared back at him angrily, send images flashing through his brain; blood, screaming, crying, death. A deep scream resonated through the empty house, followed by the thud of a large body hitting the ground; metal dug into the wooden floor while skin tugged at hair. James' mind continued its onslaught of memories while his lungs strained to bring in enough air and heart almost doubled in speed. Scenes of the destruction he's caused, the people, families, villages he'd killed purely because he'd been told to.

'Monster!'

'Quick, run!'

"Please, I don't want to die'

Then his own voice rang though his head in response, clear as a bell and sharp as a knife.

'You can't hide.'

'There is no point in running.'

'Begging for your life won't make a fucking difference.'

A sharp pain shot through his left shoulder but he pushed it down, forcing it to the back of his mind like he'd been taught to do for so long. When James' mind cleared enough to pull himself back to the present his wide eyes scanned the ground to find drops of blood that hadn't been there before. His hand was covered in his own blood. James mind raced to find the source before settling on the pain in his left shoulder. Red trickled down the sliver metal. The seam in his skin where metal met flesh had torn; as if mesmerised by the colours and feeling he continued to force his hand between the two surfaces. Pain erupted like fireworks down his back, a pained cry bursting from between his lips without warning but some twisted goal wouldn't let James stop trying to separate the metal from his body.

Blood now poured onto the dusty floor, staining everything it touched. The warmth seeped into his jeans, sweat mingled with rain, and his vison began to swim but he struggled on. He could feel nothing and everything at the same time, it was almost free when everything stopped, time froze as James' body shook violently, going limp and collapsing to the floor. A smile spread across his face as his world faded to black.


End file.
